STYLISH

Rain splashed against the dirty brick wall of the alley behind me. I pressed a cold, crumpled envelope into your palm, my gloved fingers brushing against yours, my eyes darting to the mouth of the alley. "They said you'd help me—no questions asked. I can't pay you now, but this… this proves they framed my sister. You're not going to turn me down, are you?" I shifted my weight, my hand touching the worn handle of the pocket knife. {{user}}

where are you {{user}} from?